


Ribs

by anneapocalypse



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Broken Bones, Gen, Injury, Pain, Vomiting, Whumptober 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-13 23:40:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21006083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anneapocalypse/pseuds/anneapocalypse
Summary: "What happened, you get hit by a bus down there?”“Something like that.”Missing moment on the Pelican after the Sarcophagus mission.





	Ribs

**Author's Note:**

> Something in the spirit of Whumptober, though this isn't for any particular prompt.

Carolina makes it onto the Pelican, makes her way up the ramp just trying to breathe, which is difficult enough she doesn’t brush off the first hand that reaches out to help her on board. Of course it would be York. Her other arm is gripping her badly cracked breastplate, hugging it tight against her chest. Stepping off the ramp and into the hold she inhales a little too deep, and the pain swells to nauseating levels, making her head swim. Vaguely she registers Wash in a crash seat, his gold visor turning to watch her stagger aboard. She drags herself up as straight as she can, and her ribcage screams in protest.

And there in the hold, shoved up against the front wall, the big, unwieldy crate—the Sarcophagus. At least _that_, she can claim some credit for.

She’s fine. She is fine. That’s what the armor’s _for._ Kept her alive. That’s its job. It did its job. She did her job.

“Carolina,” York’s saying, “you okay? We heard on the radio—”

_Package is secure. Better luck next time— _

She exhales, trying to breathe out the pain. It doesn’t really work. There are a lot of things she could say right now. Things she _should _be saying. Things like _Where’s Maine, who picked up Maine,_ things like_ We completed our mission, the secondary package is with—_

She doesn’t even know where Texas is. Maybe Florida picked her up. Maybe she’s with Team B. Maybe she got her own ride. Maybe she’s already back aboard the _Invention,_ laughing it up.

Carolina swallows.

She’s okay, she’s okay, she just has to make it back to the ship and then get through debrief and then she can get down to medical and—

The Pelican lurches as Niner lifts them off the freeway, and Carolina has to bite down on her own tongue so hard she tastes blood. Actually that might have been there already. The Gs hit her hard as they ascend into atmo and Carolina sways on her feet, curls her free hand into a fist and forces herself to breathe.

She just has to—

“Carolina?”

Carolina shoves past York and up to the cockpit, drops her helmet on the floor and bites out to Niner, “Shut the door.”

Niner shoots her a sidelong glance, complying. “You good?”

The door to the hold slides shut behind her. Carolina leans over her knees, stares down into the visor of her helmet. There’s a crack running from one corner of the visor down along the seam and all the way to the neck, no wonder the seal broke, god, she must’ve gotten hit hard. Deep breath—no, oh fucking god, no deep breaths, god _damn _it—

“All due respect,” Niner says, keeping her eyes forward this time, “if you’re gonna puke, please don’t do it on the floor of my bird.”

Carolina would flip her off, but she’s too busy yanking an airsickness bag out of the compartment under the console and vomiting into it. The nausea abates a little after that. The pain doesn’t. She takes shallow breaths, her eyes watering.

“Ribs?” Niner says.

“I guess.”

“Given the condition of your armor, I’d guess ribs. What happened, you get hit by a bus down there?”

“Something like that.”

“Jesus,” Niner mutters. “Rough drop.”

“Maine—?”

“Already ran him home. They took him straight into surgery.” Niner pauses a beat. “It was bad, huh.”

A full magazine to the throat bad. Thinking about it is not helping Carolina’s nausea, and she closes her eyes. Shallow breaths. She feels lightheaded.

“Hope we got what we came for,” Niner says, and there’s a tightness to her voice that wasn’t there a moment ago.

Carolina doesn’t answer.


End file.
